Strange Pains

Our ammo’s rotting in the depot

Still ready to blow in some youthful war

While we play pickup with our sinews

Don’t want no bodies keeping the score

We’ve got strange pains

They keep us fighting

My scalped dreams went without a burial

I keep’em reeking in my pockets

Their weight reminds me I’m a deadbeat

Whenever I reach for my wallet

I’ve got strange pains

And I can’t afford’em

Call us obsessed, call us masochists

We don’t need love, we’ll do it for less

It always hurts and no one’s impressed

But pain always bows to stubbornness